A Friend in Need
by Lexiconiful
Summary: Nick gets the flu and Jess helps take care of him when neither Schmidt nor Winston will go near him. Nick takes NyQuil for the first time. What will he say? Funny, sweet, and romantic.
1. Chapter 1

Jess yawned widely as she walked into the bathroom, her eyes closed just long enough that she didn't see the feet sticking out of the stall until she'd tripped over them.

With an _eep_, she caught herself on the sink and turned around. "Oh my god! Nick!" She rushed over and looked inside the stall. Nick was sitting in front of the toilet, his legs stretched out and his head resting on his arms, which were resting on the bowl.

"Ewww," she whispered, because even her tripping over his feet hadn't woken him up. She leaned in and sniffed. It didn't smell like a bender. Whatever it was, he had to move. She was not using the urinal.

"Nick." Nothing. She nudged his foot. "Nicholas!"

Nick stirred enough to lift his head, and looked blearily at her with bloodshot eyes. He coughed and rasped out, "'Sup, Jess." And with that his head fell back down to his arms.

"Nick, wake up. Are you okay?" She'd just noticed the ashen complexion beneath his normal covering of face-fur. Stepping gingerly, she leaned in to touch his forehead and gasped. "You are burning up! Get up. You should be in bed!"

She started to tug on his arm, but he wrapped his arms around the basin. "No! Only the toilet understands my pain! He stayed by my side all night."

* * *

Winston walked in to find Jessica using her teachers voice to explain why Nick should let go of the toilet. When Nick pushed her away and started to gag, both Jess and Winston jumped back.

"Whoa," Winston backed away. "Is he sick?"

Jess rang her hands as she watched Nick find a comfortable spot once more. "I think so. It sounds like he's been here all night. We have to get him into bed."

She looked to Winston and found him gone. "Winston!" She stormed out the restroom and ran into Schmidt. "Hey." She stopped him and pointed into the restroom. "Nick's sick and Winston just ran!"

Schmidt looked at her for a moment and then glanced at the restroom. "Nick's in there?"

"Yes!" She turned back towards the restroom, relieved. "What was with Winston? His friend needs him..." She stopped walking and slowly turned around to an empty hallway.

"What is wrong with you two!" She yelled.

Schmidt opened his door a crack. "We love him, Jess. We do. But you've never dealt with a sick Nick before."

Winston opened his door holding a bandana across his mouth. "He refuses to take medicine. The man gets sick once every 3 or 4 years and he never knows how to deal with it. There's crying, whining..."

"And the phlegm!" Schmidt chimed in with fear in his voice. "Don't forget the phlegm."

"You are his friends and his roommates!" She stomped a slippered foot. "And I have to use the restroom, so one or both of you help me move him. Now!"

Schmidt's door closed a fraction more. "Did you see where he's been laying. Not happening." His door closed with a snap.

Jess' mouth was pursed in anger as she stared at Winston.

He stared back until he finally broke. "Fine!" He pointed a her in warning. "But my voice is my job, Jessica. I will do horrible things to both Nick and you if I get sick."

She rolled her eyes. "Just help me."

"Come on, Nick," she conjoled. "Upsie-daisie."

She grabbed one arm while Winston, wearing the bandana across his face and plastic bags on his hands, grabbed the other. They didn't get much cooperation from Nick as they lifted him to his feet.

Nick's head lolled a bit then focused on Winston. "Dude," he whispered. "Are we playing cops and robbers again?"

Jess made a disappointed sound as they maneuvered Nick into his bedroom. "Do you guys wait until I'm not here to play these things?" They lowered him onto his bed. "I would be an amazing damsel in distress."

They stood back and looked at Nick. He was positioned face down with his legs still mostly off the bed. It appeared that he'd gone right back to sleep until the racking coughing started and he curled up in the middle of his comforter with a groan.

Winston looked at her and gave her a salute with a plastic covered hand. "He's all yours."

"But...," she sighed and looked back at her new charge. She squared her shoulders. She'd dealt with her students when they were sick, she'd handled Spencer, and once, even a sick hamster. She pushed up her pajama sleeves and took a step towards the bed.

She could handle a sick Nick Miller.


	2. Chapter 2

Jess gave what she thought was a pitiful cough into the phone as she made tea. "I'll be fine Dr. Clark and today I just had office hours." She held the phone away and noisily blew her nose. "Sorry. Yes, I already sent out an email. Alright. Bye."

She hung up with a flourish "And that's how it's done, son."

She surveyed the tray she'd assembled. "Toast. Check. Thermometer. Check." She added a ragged stuffed bunny to the mix. "Snuffles. Check." She sniffed the tea and added more sugar just in case, then looked in the glass to make sure the gelcaps had completely dissolved. "NyQuil. Check."

Nick always had a comment or a lecture on 'big parma' whenever anyone took pills when they were sick. The one thing he'd shut up about, via threatening and experience, was her monthly partaking of Midol. She smiled as she remembered how he'd even offered in a panic to go get it for her one month.

Well, she thought, he could have a say when he was lucid, coherent, and no longer had the flu.

She lifted the tray with a wobble and headed back to his room. She'd taken a bit of time to shower and change into sweatpants and her jam shirt since she was staying home. She'd set a lawn chair up by his bedside and had her laptop and a folder full of papers to grade ready to go. That combined with her own pot of non-laced tea and her mp3 player and she was all set for a day of nursemaiding.

She nudged his door open with her hip, then took a moment to gaze at the pitiful sight before her. "Poor baby," she whispered. Nick had tossed off his shirt in the interim, then wrapped himself cocoon-style in the covers so only his sweat-matted hair stuck out.

She set the tray on the nightstand and sat down on the bed. "Hey, Nick," she said sweetly. She rubbed a hand soothingly on where she thought his shoulders were and felt a shiver rack his frame. "How ya doin' there?"

Nick rolled over and slowly popped his head out of the top of the covers. "I'm good, Jess." He hadn't opened his eyes and she could tell by the way he whispered that his throat had to be on fire. "I'm just dying a little bit faster today than I was yesterday, is all."

She used his T-shirt to wipe his forehead. "I think you have the flu Nick."

"I do not. That's ridicu...," he coughed for a good minute, then just lay there groaning.

"I need you to sit up for just a minute Nick." He whimpered when she started to peel back to covers, but she easily won the tug of war that ensued. The normal, overly-modest Nick must be buried under the fever, she thought, as boxers-only Nick scooted up against the headboard and leaned his head back, uncaring of her silent perusal. She cleared her throat and tucked the covers back around him. She held up the digital thermometer. "Recognize this?"

Nick opened one eye and grinned. "Hey, it's your birthday present!" He watched as she turned it on. "I found it on clearance. It was still in the package and everything."

"Open." She placed it under his tongue. "Close. See, it's the gift that keeps on giving." He opened his mouth to talk and she held up her hand. "Not until the buzzer goes off. Okay." She gestured towards the tray. "I brought toast for the nausea. " She saw the look on his face and rolled her eyes. "No, Nick. It is not just for pregnant ladies."

She picked up his tea and the thermometer dinged. She took it out and winced. "101.5 degrees my friend. I declare you flu-ridden." She handed him the cup. "All the more reason for this."

Nick tried to hand it back to her. "I know you think this stuff is a cure-all Jess, but I don't like..."

"Please, Nick," she said softly. She gently pushed the cup back towards him and used her eyes mercilessly. "Just gulp it down. You'll feel better, I promise."

"Jess," he whined, but he lifted it to his mouth. He took a sip and made a horrible face. "Oh my god! How do you drink this stuff everyday?"

"One big gulp, buddy," she said encouragingly and watched as he held his nose closed with one hand and chugged it back.

"Eehhhggg." Nick said with feeling. She took the glass back and handed him the toast. When he balked at that she waved it in his face. "If you eat this I'll make you chicken soup later and give you popsicles for your sore throat."

He knew, vaguely, that she was supposed to be a work right now. He looked at the toast, then at her. "You'd do that anyway, Jess." And took the toast.

She tucked Snuffles into the crook of his arm as he ate the toast. He didn't seem to notice. "We'll never know now though, will we Nick?"


	3. Chapter 3

Jess stood up as he finished the toast. "Come on, Miller." She patted the bed. "Scoot down. You'll feel better if you get some sleep."

"I was already doing that when you came in," he groused as he slid back down. He shut his eyes, groaning as he once again turned on his side.

She walked around him, tucking him in as he tried to get comfortable. "What are you doing?" He sounded annoyed but she forgave him.

"What do you think I'm doing?" She asked. "I'm tucking you in." She had the feeling that if he'd felt any better he'd be slapping her hands away. She smiled as she noted how he'd kept the bunny as he'd curled up. "Didn't your mom or Caroline ever do this when you were sick?"

"That's only true in stories, Jess." He coughed, his face screwing up with pain as it rasped over his sore throat. "Real people don't do that sort of thing."

"They most certainly do," she gasped, feeling even more sorry for him. She sat on the bed once more and brushed the hair off his forehead. The lines of misery on his face softened slightly, so she did it again. "But Caroline would bring you soup or something wouldn't she?"

He wheezed out a sleepy laugh. "Naw. She'd stay away for a while if anyone in the loft was sick. It's okay." He reassured her when she stopped petting his head. God, that felt good. "I understand people not wanting to get this stuff."

"She wasn't 'people', Nick." She said quietly, feeling him relax more and more. "You're supposed to take care of the people you love."

"Maybe that was the problem then," he said drowsily. One eye creaked open to look at her. "You should get out of here, you idiot." His eyes shut once more. "I don't want you to get sick."

Jess listened to his voice trail off into sleep. She ran her fingers through his hair for another minute...or two, before she got up slowly and carefully. She knew it hadn't been long enough for him to fall into a NyQuil coma, so she tiptoed out of the room and into the kitchen where she'd left her phone.

She hit speed dial and waited, taking slow, even breaths.

"Hey, Cece."

"Hey, Jess," she answered sleepily and looked at the clock. Jess usually knew not to call before noon. "What's up?"

"Nothing," she fumed and kicked the floor. "I just needed to say out loud that Caroline is a bad person as well as a horrible, horrible girlfriend."

"Oookay." Cece flopped back into bed and put her arm over her eyes. "Is this about Nick being sick?"

Jess pulled her phone away and looked at it suspiciously before putting it back to her ear. "How do you know about that?"

"Schmidt came over this morning to use the shower because your apartment is, get this, 'plague-ridden'." She yawned. "If I join your 'Caroline's sucks' club can I go back to sleep?"

"Yes," Jess said, slightly mollified. "Thanks, Cec."

"Uh-huh, sweetie. Buh-bye."

Jess put the phone down gently and took a breath. Then she spent the next minute pantomiming a cat fight in which she took on that cold, manipulative, unloving bitch.

After _clearly_ winning she stopped and blew the hair hair out of face. She felt much better.


	4. Chapter 4

Jess sat in the lawn chair she'd installed beside the bed and graded papers while Nick snored, coughed, and muttered beside her. It had been over an hour and the NyQuil had definitely kicked in. It was cute. Pitiful, she thought with a sympathetic smile as she looked over at him, but cute.

She just reached down to pick up her tea, bopping along to her iPod, when her movements sent everything in her lap to the floor. The papers just swished, but she winced as her grade book landed with a bang.

Nick shot straight up in bed. "Zombies! Schmidt, zombies are attacking the loft!" He shouted, his eyes still closed. "Damn it man, I told you so!"

Jess had gone still, one hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. When Nick started pushing his way out of the covers, she cleared her throat and tried her best Schmidt voice. "It's okay, Nick. You defeated all the zombies, remember?"

He stopped trying to get out of bed. "Oh yeah." Jess thought he sounded smug. High as a kite and smug.

Must not giggle, she reminded herself.

Nick lay back down only to shoot back up once again. "Jessica! Is Jess okay, Schmidt?" His eyes tried to open, but weren't coordinating with each other very well.

Awww. Sooo cute. "Jess is fine, Nick. You saved her from the zombies, buddy."

He immediately calmed down and flopped down once more, eyes closing with a relieved sigh. "Okay, man."

He started to curl up again and Jess smiled as she realized he'd kept hold of the rabbit the whole time. He hugged it closer, bringing it under his nose. She winced as he took a deep breath. It had been quite a while since she'd given Snuffles a bath.

"I can smell her in my sleep," he mumbled into the rabbit then yawned. "I dreamed of her again."

Jess froze. "What?" She blurted out in her own voice. She cringed, lowering it once more. "You what?"

Nick snickered drunkenly, "You're the one with the cold, ya idiot. You sound like a girl." He yawned once again, snuggling deeper into his pillow. "I had that dream again. Fought zombies. Totally won. Jess was a turtle for awhile."

Jess rolled her eyes impatiently. She'd heard about the turtle debacle.

"Then she was a girl Again. Saved her. Danced." His voice was getting sleepier and softer. "Kissed her."

Jess' hand went to her chest as her breath caught. She knew he was almost asleep, but she couldn't resist. "You kissed her in the dream?"

"There too," he mumbled and promptly conked out.

Jess just sat a moment and tried to calm down.

It's no big deal, she told herself, snapping out of it to reach down and gather her papers. He'd told her before that he'd dreamed of her. And, she reminded herself, sleeping Jess had had her fair share of dreams about Nick. Especially since...

Nick groaned at that moment, followed by a quietly sighed, "Jess."

Oh god.

She stood up and put the mess of papers on the chair. Whether that had been a miserable call for comfort or...or something, she had to get out of there for a moment.

Soup! She thought frantically as she headed for the door. She had chicken noodle soup to make.

* * *

Don't worry, there's more. Thanks for reviewing:)


	5. Chapter 5

Jess had calmed down considerably as she'd gathered the materials for the soup. She'd had good talking-to with herself and had chalked up Nick's actions to typical guy-ness, regular Nick-ness, and cold medicine. She had to reminded herself not to think about it now that she'd reasoned it all out.

She was doing a pretty good job of that, entertaining herself with her 'chicken soup song', when Nick shuffled into the living room.

"Nick?" He'd put a shirt back on, but it was inside out and backwards. The nervousness she was worried about never even emerged as she watched Nick move to the tv. He stood a foot away from it, just staring.

She wiped her hands and walked over. "Hey, there. Whatcha doin'?" She asked sweetly.

He was still completely out of it. "Watchin' the news," he mumbled. His eyes kept taking turns blinking as they tried to watch the blank TV.

"That's great, Nick." She gingerly patted his arm. "But maybe you should lie back down."

"Okay."

"No, no!" Jess grabbed his arm as he started to get down on the floor. She tugged him towards the couch. "Come on over here." She cajoled. "Doesn't the couch look soft and warm?"

She moved out of the way just in time as Nick toppled face-first onto the cushions. He muttered something into the the leather right before he had a coughing fit.

Poor baby. Jess brought his feet the rest of the way onto the couch. "What was that?"

Nick squirmed, trying to get comfortable. "No germs on the couch," he yawned.

She paused in the act of snagging a cover. "Is that so?" She covered him with the afghan. "I happen to know for a fact that people recover faster on couches." So Schmidt could suck it, she finished silently as she eased a pillow under Nick's head.

As his breathing evened once more into sleep, Jess made a little sick-bird nest for Nick. She scooted the coffee table closer to the couch and put the tissue box, trash can, and remote control close at hand. She went into his bedroom and got Snuffles once again, tucking it under the afghan with Nick.

A quick hand to his forehead confirmed that his fever was rising. Well, she glanced towards Schmidt's room, she knew of just the thing for that.

* * *

Nearly an hour later and the soup was finally finished. "Mmmmm." Jess gave herself a high-five and did a quick dance in front of the stove. "Just like Grandma's Jewish neighbor taught me."

She looked over at the couch where Nick was restlessly dozing. She could tell that the medicine was wearing off, but it wasn't quite time for another dose. She dished up a bowl of the soup along with a cup of regular (non-laced) hot tea with milk and headed to the couch.

"Nick," she said softly and set the tray down. "I've got some soup for you." She sat on the couch by his head and rubbed his shoulder. "Just like I promised, remember?"

Nick groaned and lifted a hand to rub over his face. When he touched his forehead he jerked up with a startled, "What the hell!". He ripped the cool, squishy thing off of his face and flung it away.

He ran his hands over his face again, searching for any other foreign objects. When he found none, he pressed his fingers to his French-fried eyeballs and took a deep breath to calm down. That's when he heard Jess giggle.

He looked over to see a her curled up at the other end of the couch with her eyes extra big and smiling behind her hands. "What the hell, Jess?"

She lowered her hands and bit her lip to hold back the grin. Grumpy, lucid Nick had returned. "I'm so sorry. I put one of Schmidt's Japanese fever cooling patches on you." Schmidt had extolled their curative properties when he'd ordered them. He'd also said 'hands-off', but Jess considered that null and void with how he'd treated Nick this morning. She scooted back over as he rubbed his forehead. "You were starting to get hot again."

She reached a hand towards his head, but he jerked away. "I'm fine." He put his feet on the floor and sat there for a moment with his head hanging down and his elbows resting on his knees. God, he felt like crap. "Did you say something before you scared me by putting weird foreign crap on my face?"

She cleared her throat and put the bowl in front of him. "Here's your chicken soup."

He stared at it in bad temper. He didn't feel like putting anything down his sore throat right now. "Did I ask you to do that?" He asked nastily. Her hurt look just made him more annoyed because feeling guilty on top of sick just made him more miserable.

He pushed the bowl away and rubbed at his aching head. "I didn't ask you to do any of this. Why aren't at work, anyway?" He closed his eyes against the look on her face and laid back down, pulling the afghan over his head. "Just leave me alone, Jess. I'm a grown man. You don't have to take care of me."

Jess sat there on the couch for a few moments, her initial shock turning to anger, then to hurt. "You're right Nick." Her voice quivered and she saw his shoulders hunch under the covers. "I don't have to help you." Nick peeked out from the covers as she got up with a sniff and headed towards her room. "Sorry to have bothered you," she said in a small voice.

He waited until she'd left the room then lowered the covers. He put his arm over his eyes with a sigh. "You're a bastard," he told himself angrily.

He looked at the soup she'd left on the coffee table. He could see the steam rising and he could smell it even through his stuffy nose. His stomach took that moment to remind him he'd thrown up every bit of food he'd had since last night.

"Damn it." He sat up and picked up the spoon.

* * *

Jess had sat in her room for a while feeling sorry for herself, then she'd gotten good and mad. She was his friend, darn it! She was allowed to help him if she felt like it. She hadn't let Winston or Schmidt talk her out of helping Nick, so why did she let him talk her out of it! She stomped out to the living room only to find the soup bowl empty, the tea cup full, and Nick asleep once more.

Hmphh. She pouted for a moment, crossing her arms as her righteous indignation fizzled out. She glanced down the hallway towards his room then went to steal the untouched tea for herself. He was getting her help, grown man or not.


	6. Chapter 6

Winston staggered out of his room, yawning as he rubbed his eyes. Given his night shift, it was still too early for him to be up, but whatever Jess had made smelled so good he had to make sure he had some before it was all gone. He walked down the hallway, stopped, then walked backwards until he could see into Nick's room once more.

He leaned on the door jamb and watched Jess spray Nick's bare mattress with Febreeze. "Hey, Jess." He yawned. "Do I want to know what you're doing?"

Jess gave the spray bottle one last angry squeeze. "I'm changing some sheets," she pointed out defensively. "Got a problem with that?"

Winston shook his head in a negative and watched her snap out linens that he knew for a fact were not Nick's. He knew this because, one, Nick only owned one pair of sheets, and two, Nick's sheets normally didn't have little pink roses on them. He could hear the washer going in the background.

"Sooo," he said carefully, especially as she punched pillows into their new cases. "Can I have some of whatever is making that heavenly smell?" He asked suavely. Her lips tightened and he threw out quickly, "It's kind of like a midnight snack for me, you see."

"Fine. Help yourself." She smoothed the blanket over Nick's bed, barely noticing as Winston slipped away as she mentally tried to work out a way to get more NyQuil into Nick.

A few minutes later Winston appeared in the doorway once more with a bowl of soup in hand. "This stuff is amazing, Jess." He brought another spoonful to his mouth.

She noticed he'd grabbed an entire pack of crackers. "Thanks, Winston." She put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow at him. "Not that you deserve it."

He didn't look the least bit guilty and took another bite. "I helped get him back in bed," he pointed to the bowl with his spoon. "I earned this soup. Schmidt's going to have kittens, by the way. No germs on the couch," he repeated the mantra. He ignored the sound she made in the back of her throat and turned towards his room. "Oh, and Nick's crying." he tossed out casually. "Weeping, really."

"What?" She squeaked and ran into the living room.

She found Nick still lying on the couch, rocking himself back and forth as a few tears tracked down his face.

She rushed over and knelt on the floor. "Nick! What's the matter?" She unconsciously used the same voice that she normally reserved for small children and animals. She put a hand on his forehead, and this time he didn't jerk away. He was burning up.

"I'm dying, Jess," he sniveled. "I know I caught some horrible disease from those wack-jobs at the bar. Or, or.." He grabbed her hand and looked at her with fear in his bleary eyes. "The government figured out I'm on to them and they planted a bio-weapon in my car!"

She freed her hand and passed him a badly needed tissue. As he blew, she petted his arm soothingly. "I don't know buddy, but my bets on the wack-jobs."

She nodded her head in sympathetic agreement to his muttered 'bastards'.

She glanced at his empty bowl. "Did you like the soup?" At his sheepish nod she asked, "Do you want some more?

Another nod, then a shake. "I'm sorry I was a jerk, Jess." He scooted around to face her, their eyes almost level as she sat on the floor. "I really appreciate you doin' this stuff."

"You'd do the same for me." She shrugged shyly. " 'A friend in need'...and all that jazz."

"I don't know. Girls are different when it comes to sick friends." He put his arm over his eyes. "Schmidt usually just stands outside my door and sprays Lysol on it." He lowered his arm. "Did you stay home from work just to take care of me?"

"Pfft." She rolled her eyes and waved her hand in the air. "I was feeling a little under the weather myself this morning so I decided to stay home." She patted his hand. "We're like sickness buddies. Hey," she pointed to herself. "Maybe I actually got you sick."

"Then you're a bitch and I hate you," he said simply, grinning when she laughed.

"So see, that soup wasn't just for you," she lyingly reassured him.

Nick didn't believe her. He vaguely remembered parts of the day and didn't remember her being miserable at all. "Why aren't you in bed," he looked around. "Or on the couch...why am I here, anyway." He waved that away. "Never mind. You don't look sick," he pointed out resentfully.

Jess quirked her mouth, and Nick knew she was weighing something in her mind before she said it. "What?" He asked. "Is it some big secret?"

"Nooo," Jess drew out. Here was a chance. "I just happened to take something this morning," she lied. "I got better real fast because I took it at the first sign of symptoms." She knew that look on his face. "I know you hate pills, Nick, but it would help you feel so much better. Just look at me!"

When he still made the turtle face, she sighed and made heavy weather of getting up to gathering his soup bowl. "By the way, I changed your sheets."

"Jeeeess," he whined, covering his face with his hands.

"It's no big deal, Nick." She brought him over a glass of water and another bowl then sat beside him, fiddling with the package of gel-caps. She didn't have to fake looking worried as Nick peeked at her through his fingers. "I'd just be less worried about you getting better, since I have to work tomorrow no matter what."

Nick sighed. Damn girls and their successful guilt tactics. "Fine, I'll take the damn pills," he gritted out through his teeth. He sat up and she put the caplets in his hand. He looked over at her, sitting innocently beside him.

Yeah, right. But he was still going to take the damn pills, if only because of how he'd treated her earlier. "If there are microchips in these I'm going to be seriously angry."

"Totally understandable," she agreed as he swallowed them down with the water. "Do want that Popsicle now?" She asked as he put the water down.

"Yes, please."


	7. Chapter 7

Two hours later Schmidt got off the elevator to find Cece about to knock. He smiled his big cheesy grin at her. "Hello, Cece. Seeing me once today wasn't enough? He asked as he got out his keys.

She rolled her eyes but didn't move away as he moved next to her to unlock the door. "I'm just checking on Jess. The last time I talked to her she was a little upset."

His grin fell away. "Well, who wouldn't be. Nick is sick and given his grasp at hygiene, we're all probably one door handle away from an epidemic." He stepped aside as she went in ahead I'd him.

When she turned around and put a hand over his mouth, he smiled under her hand wiggled his eyebrows at her.

She raised a finger and pointed it in his face then to the couch. "If you wake them up, I will kill you," she whispered. His eyes followed her finger and he gasped. Her hand got tighter. "Do. Not."

He jerked his head away, but he whispered. "But he's on the couch!"

"_They're_ on the couch, dumbass." She looked at the pair. Nick was on his side with his head on Jess' lap. He had one hand wrapped around her thigh by his head and the other...

Cece smiled. Jess' head was tipped back on the couch and she had one hand woven through Nick's hair. The other was tangled with his as they slept.

She dragged Schmidt into his room and shut the door. Schmidt was so distraught that his hands were both clenched in his hair and he was starting to pace. "I'm going to need to buy more Lysol. What is he thinking!" He made to leave the room and Cece stepped in front of him.

He wasn't ruining this for her. "You can stay at my place tonight." At his surprised look and raised eyebrows, she clarified. "On the couch." At his fallen look and pout she relented. "All right, all right. We'll share the bed, but that's it." Maybe. "But you have to leave them alone."

Schmidt made a pained face and looked from Cece to the door and back about three times before agreeing."Fine!" He started grabbing clothes and an overnight bag. "It's better this way anyway. I can almost see the putrid miasma building in the loft as we speak!"

Cece pushed him from behind to keep him going as they made to the front door. When she started to push faster her looked over his shoulder. "What?" he mouthed.

Her eyes were big as she shook her head and mouthed, 'nothing'. She let out a quiet breath as she closed the door behind them. If he'd seen his japanese fever patches on the floor, all bets would have been off.

Jess' eyes fluttered open at the 'snick' of the door. When she looked around and didn't see anyone, she laid her back again with a sigh. She was drifting in and out of sleep when she felt Nick resettle his hand in hers.

"Jessica." He breathed in his sleep. He squeezed her hand gently in his.

Jess smiled in her sleepy haze and returned the caress, flexing the fingers that were still thread through his hair. "Nick," she whispered back, and fell asleep once more.


	8. Chapter 8

Nick opened his eyes and watched groggily as Winston closed the door behind him on his way to work. He closed them once more with a sigh and took an experimental swallow, eyes shut tight as he waited for the burn.

Nothing.

He did it again just to make sure.

"Oh, thank god," he muttered. It never lasted long, but he hated being sick. Even he couldn't stand himself when he got real bad. The crying alone gave him headaches. He ran his hands over his face, itching at his overly-long stubble and absently checked for fever. "Good to go, my friend."

He groaned and started to stretch his hands above his head when he hit something warm. Pulling his arms back quickly, he looked up and to the side and froze as he found Jess, stretched out along the other arm of the couch, their heads just inches apart. She made a soft little sound as she resettled, one arm stretching above her head and coming to rest by his shoulder.

Nick just sat there staring at her for a while, little pieces of the day; her getting him back to his room this morning, her making him truly horrible tea, making him soup...him yelling at her, all coming back to either haunt him or make him feel stupid-soft in chest.

Those devil-drugs that Jess had guilted him into were truly amazing. He still felt bone-deep tired, but most of his symptoms were gone after just one dose. Amazing. He gave a reluctant mental salute to the money-grubbing medicine makers.

He had very vague recollections of the rest of the day when he knew he wasn't sleeping. He absently fiddled with a piece of her hair and wondered about the large chunks of the day he flatly did not remember. How he ended up on the couch for one. He raised his head and winced as he looked around the living room. There were tissues and bowls and glasses everywhere. He knew for a fact that Schmidt wasn't home, mainly because he wasn't being rolled off the couch and doused with bleach.

Nick flipped over, holding himself up on his elbows as he looked down at Jess. She'd had a crap day, he thought, lifting a hand to move her hair back from a face soft with sleep. Looking after a sick, grumpy, ungrateful bastard. He hesitated a moment, then ran a hand lightly over her mass of hair.

Jess' head turned towards his touch. "Mmmm," she sighed in pleasure.

Nick jerked his hand back, freezing as Jess turned on her back and stretched her arms out in front of her, making throaty girly sounds (which were going to give Nick some uncomfortable nights) as she slowly opened eyes.

And froze mid-stretch.

The way she'd moved had brought her head almost directly under his. They stared at each other in silence for a moment, Jessica in sleepy confusion and Nick with a deer in the headlights Look. Jess snapped out of it first.

"Nick!" Her hand shot up and slapped him.

"Hey!" He rubbed at the sting and wondered what look she'd seen in his face that warranted that.

Both her hands reached up to cradle his face from below. "Oh crap! Nick, I'm so sorry! I don't have my glasses on and I was just trying to check your temperature."

He tried to look annoyed and insulted as she cupped the cheek she'd slapped in one hand and laid the other against his forehead. "Why do all women think that they have thermometer super powers in their hands?"

"'Cause we do," she told him simply. She watched his eyes close as she rubbed her hand against his micro beard. "It comes installed standard along with the uterus."

He opened his eyes and he gave her the face. "Eww, Jess."

"Don't be jealous, Nick." She smiled up at him, relieved that his fever seemed to be gone. "I've always thought of facial hair as a kind of a super power that only guys get to have." She made a face as she rubbed his furry chin. "Which seems totally unfair. My face gets chilly too sometimes, you know."

He resisted the urge to run his finger along the smooth line of her jaw. "Sorry, Jess. I'm with Mother Nature on the girls and facial hair issue."

She laughed and dropped her hands. "Thank you very much Mr. Lumberjack. Then I'll just keep my thermometer hands."

"And what do they say?"

She sat up on the couch and turned around to face Him. Nick followed suit and watched her cross her legs Indian-style in that effortless way of women. "They say you're feeling better." More than that, his parlor and eyes were almost normal.

He nodded, running his hands up and down his chest, absently noting that his shirt was on backwards. "Yeah. Those witch doctor pills you gave me really did the trick." He smiled at her. "Damn it."

She grinned back. "Maybe now you'll sign my petition for the makers of NyQuil to get a Nobel prize for lessening mankind's suffering."

"I don't know," he hedged. "On second thought, it was probably your chicken soup." He shook his head at her 'awww, thanks'. "Or it was that god-awful tea you gave me this morning." He rasped his tongue over his teeth at the memory. "I still don't know how you drink that swill every morning."

Her eyes got just a little bigger. That never boded well. "What?" He asked her.

She shook her head and tried to look innocent. "Nothing. Let's just call it a combination of all three." She stood up, ignoring his suspicious look. "It's not that late, Nick. You should go to your room and get some more sleep. You could relapse, you know."

He watched her pile the dishes up and carry them into the kitchen. He knew exactly why he'd felt better, faster. "Hey, Jess."

She turned around, not looking at him as she concentrated on not dropping the dishes. "Yeah, Nick?"

He didn't have to guard his expression if she wasn't looking. "Thanks for today."

She walked over to the sink and put the dishes in one by one, smiling softly as she thought of all the grumpy moments and insights she'd gotten to see of Nick throughout the day. Luckily, he couldn't see her face way over here. "My pleasure, Nick."

He got up off the couch with a groan and rubbed a hand absently over the cheek she'd hit, then soothed. "Well, goodnight," he said resolutely, wrenching his eyes away from her back as he turned towards his room.

"Goodnight," Jess said and turned to watch him walk into the hallway towards his room. She took a moment to take a deep breath then went to the couch to clear off the rest of the coffee table. She was just reaching down when Nick stomped back into the room.

He pointed angrily towards his bedroom. "I am not sleeping on rosebud sheets, Jessica!"

Jess closed her eyes and sighed. He was definitely feeling better.

* * *

The end! Thanks for reading and I hope you liked the story. Please review and tell me any other situations you'd like to read about as regards Nick and Jess. Thanks!


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